


Patience Yields Focus

by RosieClark



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, F/M, Gang AU, Kinda Dark, Some fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 09:58:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19226830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieClark/pseuds/RosieClark
Summary: Being a member of the Paladins was never easy. You have to learn to be ruthless, and cruel, just to survive another dayOrA gang/dystopian AU





	Patience Yields Focus

**Author's Note:**

> Writing fics at 11 at night never ends well. Hope you enjoy!

Keith Kogane didn’t need a reason. That was the rumor whispered on the streets of New Altea, in the taverns and coffeehouses, in the dark and bleeding alleys of the slum district known as the Barrel. The boy they called the Red Paladin didn’t need a reason any more than he needed permission—to break a leg, sever an alliance, or changes a man’s fortunes with the turn of a card.

 

Of course they were wrong, Katie considered as she crossed the bridge over the black waters of the river to the deserted main square that fronted the Exchange. Every act of violence was deliberated, and every favor came with enough strings to stage a puppet show. Keith _ always _ had his reasons. Katie should just never be sure they were the right ones. Especially tonight.

 

For all its talk of a better future, New Altea had nothing to offer. She gave props to Allura, the idea was a good one, but the execution was lacking in so many ways. Their attempt to unify the pre-existing groups and gangs had lead to a deeper separation that looked like it would never heal, and the start of more gang wars then she could keep track of. She silently berated herself for ever being hopeful for a better future. There wasn’t one. At least not for people like her.

 

Katie checked her knives, silently reciting their names as she always did when she thought there might be trouble. It was a practical habit, but a comfort, too. The blades were her companions. She liked knowing they were ready for whatever the night might bring. When she’d first told him, Lance had laughed at their names, claiming that Bae Bae and Rover were too kid-like for weapons.

 

She saw Keith and the others gathered near the great stone arch that marked the eastern entrance to the Exchange. Three words been carved into the rock above them:  _ Industry, Integrity, Prosperity. _

 

She kept close to the shuttered storefronts that lined the square, avoiding the pockets of flickering gaslight cast by the streetlamps. As she moved, she inventoried the crew Keith had brought with him; Nyma, James, Veronica, and his chosen seconds for tonight's parley, Haxus and Lance. She smiled as her eyes met his blue ones and he gave her a mock salute. She picked up her pace.

 

The crew jostled and bumped one another, laughing, stamping their feet against the cold snap that had surprised the city this week, the last gasp of winter before spring began in earnest. They were all bruisers and brawlers, culled from the younger members of the Paladins, the people Keith trusted the most. Katie noted the glint of knives tucked into their belts, lead pipes, weighted chains, ax handles studded with rusty nails, and here and there, the oily gleam of a gun barrel. She slipped silently beside Lance, who continued speaking to the others as he wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders, scanning the shadows near the Exchange for signs of General spies.

 

“Three ships!” Lance was saying. “The Olkari sent them. They were just sitting in First Harbor, cannons out, green flags flying, stuffed to the sails with gold.”

 

Haxus gave a low whistle. “Would have liked to see that.”

 

“Would have liked to  _ steal _ that,” Lance corrected. “Half the Altean Merchant Council was down there, flapping and squawking, trying to figure out what to do.”

 

Katie nestled deeper into the crook of Lance’s arm. It was nice to see him so care free like this, talking among friends without a care in the world. He squeezed her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.

 

“Don’t they want the Olkari paying their debts?” Haxus asked.

 

Keith shook his head, dark hair glinting in the lamplight. He was a collection of hard lines and tailored edges—sharp jaw, lean build, his trademarked red wool coat snug across his shoulders. “Yes and no,” he said in his rock salt rasp. “It’s always good to have a country in debt to you. Makes for friendlier negotiations.”

 

“Maybe the Olkari are done being friendly,” said Lance. “They didn’t have to send all that treasure at once. You think they stuck that trade ambassador?”

 

Keith eyes flicked to Katie beside Lance. New Altea had been buzzing about the assassination of the ambassador for weeks. It had nearly destroyed the Altean-Glara relations and sent the Merchant Council into an uproar. The Galra blames the Alteans. The Alteans suspected the Olkari. Keith didn’t care who was responsible; the murder fascinated him because he couldn’t figure out hoe it had been accomplished. In one of the busiest corridors of the Castle, in full view of more than a dozen government officials, the Galran trade ambassador had stepped into a washroom. Not one else had entered or left, but when his aide knocked on the door a few minuted later, there had been no answer. When they’d broken down the door, they'd found the ambassador face down on the white tiles, a knife in his back, the sink still running.

 

Keith had send Katie to investigate the premises after hours. The washroom had no other entrance, no windows or vents, and even Katie herself had not mastered the art of squeezing herself through plumbing. Yet the Galran ambassador was dead. Keith hated a puzzle he couldn’t solve, and he and Katie had concocted a hundred theories to account for the murder—non of which satisfied. Lance had been very helpful, listening to her endless ranting about how stubborn Keith was and how she just wanted to go to sleep. Regardless of who murdered the ambassador, they had bigger problems tonight.

 

She saw Keith signal to Lance and Haxus to divest themselves of weapons. Street law dictated that for a parley of this kind each lieutenant be seconded by two of his foot soldiers and that they all be unarmed.  _ Parley _ . She wrinkled her nose. The word felt like a deception—strangely prim, an antique. Not matter what street law decreed, this night smelled like violence.

 

“Go on, give those guns over,” James said to Lance.

 

With a great sigh, Lance removed the gun belts at his hips. She had to admit, he looked less without them. The Cuban sharpshooter, no  _ her  _ Cuban sharpshooter, was long-limbed, brown-skinned, constantly in motion. He pressed his lips to the pearl handles of his prized revolvers, bestowing each with a mournful kiss.

 

“Take good care of my babies,” Lance said as he handed them over to James. “If I see a single scratch or nick on those, I’ll spell  _ forgive me _ on your chest in bullet holes.”

 

“You wouldn't waste the ammo.”

 

“And he’d be dead halfway through  _ forgive,”  _ Veronica said as she collected Haxus' weapons, a switchblade, hatchet and his preferred weapon, a thick chain weighted with a heavy padlock. 

 

Lance rolled his eyes. “It's about sending a message sis. What’s the point of a dead guy with  _ ford _ written on his chest?”

 

James visibly paled and locked eyes with Katie pleadingly. She shrugged. “Hey, sometimes I think he loves the guns more than he loves me.”

 

Lance put a hand to his chest in mock offence. ‘Never babe. I swear.” He leaned, capturing her lips with his. When they pulled apart, he eyed James. “Now, where were we?”

 

“Compromise.” Keith said. “ _ I’m sorry _ does the trick and uses fewer bullets.”

 

James laughed, but Katie noticed he cradled Lance’s revolvers very gently.

 

Keith drew a watch from his red vest pocket. “It’s almost midnight.”

 

Katie turned her gaze to the exchange. It was a little more than a large rectangular courtyard surrounded by warehouses and shipping offices. But during the day, it was the heart of New Altea, bustling with wealthy merchants buying and selling shares in the trade voyages that passed through the city’s ports. Now it was nearly twelve, and the Exchange was deserted but for the guards who patrolled the perimeter and the rooftop. They’d been bribed to look the other way during tonight's parley, of course.

 

The Exchange was one of the few remaining parts of the city that hadn’t been divvied up and claimed in the ceaseless skirmishes between New Alteas rival gangs. It was supposed to be neutral territory, but it didn’t  _ feel  _ neutral to Katie. It felt like the hush of the woods before the snare yanks tight and the rabbit starts to scream. It felt like a trap.

 

“This is a mistake,” she said. Katie heard the name the Paladins preferred for her whispered among their ranks—Pidge. She was never sure why, Lance liked to joke it was because she was like a pigeon, cute but able to peck your eyes out, but she seriously doubted his logic. “Lotor is up to something.”

 

“Of course he is,” said Keith. His voice had been rough, abraded texture of stone against stone. Katie always wondered if he’d sounded that way as a little boy. If he’d ever been a little boy. 

 

“Then why come tonight?”

 

“Because that's the way Coran wants it.’

 

_ Old man old ways _ , Katie thought but didn’t say, and she suspected the other Paladins were thinking the same thing.

 

“He’s going to get us all killed.” She murmured under her breath.

 

Lance stretched his long arms overhead and grinned, his teeth white against his dark skin. He had yet to give up his rifle, and the silhouette of it slung across his back made him resemble a gawky, long-limbed bird. “Statistically, he’ll probably only get  _ some  _ of us killed.”

 

She smiled back. “Look at you being all sciency.”

 

He shrugged and winked. “I learn from the best babe.”

 

“You flatter me,” she deadpanned. “Still, it’s not something to joke about.” The look Keith gave her was nothing less than amused. She knew how she sounded—stern, fussy, like an old crone making dire proclamations from her porch. She didn’t like it, but she also knew she was right. Besides, old women must know something, or they wouldn’t like to gather wrinkles and yell from their front stoops.

 

“Lance wasn’t making a joke, Katie,” said Keith. “He’s just figuring the odds.”

 

Haxus cracked his knuckles. “Well I’ve got larger and a skillet of eggs waiting for me at the Lion, so I can't be the one to die tonight.”

 

“Care to place a wager?” Lance asked.

 

“I’m not going to bet on my own death.”

 

Keith flipped his hat on his head and ran his gloved fingers along the brim in a quick salute. “Why not Haxus? We do it every day.”

 

He was right. Katies debt to Zarkon meant she gambled her life every time she took on a new job or assignment, every time she left her room at the Lion. Tonight was no different.

 

Keith struck his walking stick against the cobblestones as the bells from the Church of Alfor began to chime. The group fell silent. The time for talk was done. “Lotor isn’t smart, but he’s just bright enough to cause trouble,” said Keith. “No matter what you hear, you don’t join the fray unless I give the command. Stay sharp.” Then he gave Katie a brief nod. “And stay hidden.”

 

“Patience,” Lance said as he tossed his rifle to James.

 

“Yields focus,” the rest of the Paladins murmured in reply. Among them, it passed for good luck.

 

Before Katie could melt into the shadows, Kaz tapped her arm with his fake cane, Lance behind him. “Keep a watch on the rooftop guards. Lotor may have them in his pocket.”

 

“Then-” Katie began, but Keith was already gone.

 

Katie threw her hands in frustration. She had a hundred questions, but as usual, Keith was keeping a stranglehold on the answers. She let out a breath. “That guy.”

 

“Tell me about it.” Lance smirked. “Be careful yeah?”

 

“You too.” She pecked him on the cheek. “If you die I’ll kill you myself.”

 

He wrapped his arms around her, comforting her with his warmth. “Yes ma’am.”

 

They slowly untangles themselves from each other, a small part of her hoping that is they went slow enough, they wouldn't have to go at all. It didn’t work, and Lance gave her a kiss on the head before he waltzed up to Keith and Haxus.

 

Katie jogged toward the canal-facing wall of the Exchange. Only the lieutenant and their seconds were allowed to enter during the parley, but just in case the Generals got any ideas, the other Paladins would be waiting right outside the eastern arch with weapons at the ready. She knew Lotor would have his own crew of heavily armed Generals gathered at the western entrance.

 

Katie would find her own way in. The rules of fair play among the gangs were from Corans time. Besides, she was Pidge—the only law that applied to her was gravity, and some days she defied that too.

 

The lower level of the Exchange was dedicated to windowless warehouses, so Katie located a drainpipe to shinny up. Something made her hesitate before she wrapped her hand around it. She drew a light from her pocket and gave it a shake, casting a pale green glow over the pipe. It was slick with oil. She followed the wall, seeking another option , and found a stone cornice bearing a stature of New Altea’s Voltron within reach. She stood on her toes and tentatively felt along the top of the cornice. It had been covered in ground glass.  _ I am expected _ , she thought with grim pleasure.

 

She’d joined up with the Paladins less than four years ago, just days after her eighteenth birthday. It had been a matter of survival, but it gratified her to know that, in such a short time, she’d become someone to take precautions against. Though, if the Generals thought tricks like this would keep Pidge from her goal, they were sadly mistaken.

 

She drew two climbing spikes from the pockets of her quilted vest and wedged first one then the other between the bricks of the wall as she hoisted herself higher, her questing feet finding the smallest holds and ridges in the stone. As a child learning to walk the tightrope with Matt, she’d gone barefoot. But that was a long time ago, and the streets of New Altea were too cold and wet for that. After a few bad spills, she’d paid Hunk, an old friend working out of the most famous bakery in the city, to make her a pair of leather slippers with rubber soles. They were perfectly molded to her feet and gripped any surface without hassle.

 

On the second story of the Exchange, she hoisted herself onto a window ledge just wide enough to perch on.

 

Lance had done his best to teach her, but she didn’t quite have his way with breaking and entering, and it took her a few tried to finesse the lock. Finally she heard a satisfying  _ click _ , and the window swung open on a deserted office, its walls covered in maps marked with trade routes and chalkboards listing share prices and the names of ships. She ducked inside, refastened the latch, and picked her way past the empty desks with their neat stacks of orders and tallies.

 

She crossed to a slender set of doors and stepped into a balcony that overlooked the central courtyard of the Exchange. Each of the shipping offices had one. From here, callers announced new voyaged and arrivals of inventory, or hung the black flag that indicated that a ship, its crew members and all its cargo had been lost at sea. The floor of the Exchange would erupt into a flurry of trades, runners would spread the word throughout the city, and the prices of goods, futures, and shares in outgoing voyages would rise or fall. But tonight all was silent.

 

A wind came in off the harbor, bringing the smell of the seam ruffling the stray hairs that had escaped the braid Lance had painstakingly pinned to the nape of her neck. One of these days, she was going to cut her hair. Down in the square, Katie was the sway of lamplight and heard the thump of Keiths cane on the stones as he and his seconds made their way across the square. On the opposite side, she glimpsed another set of lanterns heading toward them. The Generals had arrived.

 

Katie raised her hood. She pulled herself onto the railing and leapt soundlessly to the neighboring balcony, then the next, tracking Keith and the others around the square, staying as close as she could. She could hear Lance running his large mouth and Haxus’ light chuckle.

 

As she drew nearer to the other side of the square, Katie saw that Lotor had chosen to bring Zethrid and Narti—exactly as she had predicted. Katie knew the strengths and weaknesses of every member of the Generals, not to mention the Bulmerans, Alteas Elite, the Arusian Warriors, and every other gang working the streets of New Altea. It was her job to know that Lotor trusted Zethrid because they’d come up through the ranks of the Generals together, and because Zethrid was built like a stack of boulders—nearly seven feet tall, and dense with muscle.

 

She was suddenly glad Haxus was with Lance and Keith. The fact that Keith had chosen Lance to be one of his seconds was no surprise. Twitchy as Lance was, with or without his revolvers, he was at his best in a fight, and she knew he’d do anything for his family. She’d been less sure when Keith insisted on Haxus as well. Haxus was arrogant and selfish, and not much help when he opened his mouth. Still, at least he was tall enough to look Zethrid in the eye.

 

Katie didn’t want to think too much on Lotor’s other second. Narti made her nervous. She wasn’t as physically intimidation as Zethrid. In fact, Narti was made to look like a scarecrow—not scrawny, but as if beneath her clothes, her body had been put together at wrong angles. Word was she’d once crushed a man's skull with his bare hands, wiped her palms clean on her shirt front and kept right on drinking.

 

Katie tried to quiet the unease roiling through her, and listened as Lotor and Keith made small talk in the square while their seconds patted each of them down to make sure no one was carrying.

 

“Naughty,” Lance said as he removed a tiny knife from Zethrid’s sleeve, and tossed it to the east entrance. “Finders keepers. I’ve got a fiance who likes knives.”

 

Katie could have sworn his eyes flicked up to hers, and her stomach filled with butterflies. Three years and he still had that effect on her. She subconsciously twisted the ring on her left hand, smiling.

 

“Clear,” declared Haxus as he finished patting down Lotor and moved on to Narti.

 

Keith and Lotor discussed the weather, the suspicion that Castle was serving watered-down drinks now that the rent had been raised—dancing around the real reason they'd come here tonight. In theory, they would chat, make their apologies, agree to respect the boundaries of Fifth Harbor , then all head out to find a drink together—at least, that’s what Coran had insisted.

 

_ But what does Coran know? _ Katie thought as she looked for the guards patrolling the roof above, trying to pick out their shaped in the dark. Coran ran the Paladins, but these days, he preferred to sit in the warmth of his room, drinking lukewarm nunvill, building model ships, and telling long stories of his exploits to anyone who would listen. He seemed to think territory wars could be settled as they once had been: with a short scuffle and a friendly handshake. But every one of Katies senses told her that was not how this was going to play out. Her father would have said the shadows were about their own business tonight. Something bad was going to happen here.

 

Keith stood with both gloved hands resting on his cane. He looked totally at ease, his narrow face obscured by the brim of his ridiculous hat. Most gang members in the Barrel loved flash: gaudy waistcoats, watch fobs studded with false gems trousers in every print imaginable. Keith was the exception—the picture of restraint, his dark vests and trousers simply cut and tailored along his severe lines. At first, she’d thought it was a matter of taste, but she’d come to realize that is was a joke he liked to play on the upper class. He enjoyed looking like one of them.

 

“I’m a businessman,” he’d told her. “No more, no less.”

 

“You’re a thief Keith.”

 

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

 

Now he looked like some kind of priest come to preach to a group of circus performers. A young priest, she thought with another pang of unease. Keith had called Lotor old and washed up, but he certainly didn't seem that way tonight. The Generals lieutenant might have wrinkles creasing the corners of his eyes and burgeoning jowls beneath his sideburns, but he looked confident, experiences. Next to him, Keith looked… well, twenty three.

  
  


“Let's cut to the chase yes? All we want is a little more coin for our purse,” Lotor said, tapping the mirrored buttons of his purple waistcoat. “It’s not fair for you to cull every spend-happy tourist stepping off a pleasure boat at Fifth Harbor .”

 

“Fifth Harbor  is Paladin territory Lotor. Always has been, and always will,” Keith replied. “We get first crack at everything that steps foot in it.”

 

Lotor shook his head, white hair waving. “You’re a young one, Kogane,” he said with an indulgent laugh. “Maybe you don’t understand how these things work. The harbors belong to the city, and we have just as much right to them as anyone. We’ve all got families to feed.”

 

Technically, that was true. But Fifth Harbor  had been useless and all but abandoned by the city when Keith had taken over. He’d had it dredged, and then built out the docks and the quay, and he’d had to mortgage the Lion to do it. Coran had railed at him and called him a fool for the expense, but eventually, he relented. According to Keith, the old man’s exact words had been, “Take all that rope and quiznacking hang yourself.” But the endeavor had paid for itself in less than a year. Now, Fifth Harbor offered berths to merchant ships, as well as boats from all over the world carrying tourists and soldiers eager to see the sights and sample the pleasures of New Altea. The Paladins got first try at all of them, steering them—and their wallets—into brothels, taverns, and gambling dens owned by the gang. Fifth Harbor had made the old man very rich, and cemented the Paladins as real players in the Barrel in a way that not even the success of the Lion had. But with profit came unwanted attention. Lotor and the Generals had been making trouble for the Paladins all year, encroaching on Fifth Harbor, picking off people that weren’t rightfully theirs.

 

“Fifth Harbor is ours.,” Keith repeated. “It isn’t up for negotiation. You’re cutting into our traffic from the docks, and you intercepted a shipment of quintessence that should have docked two nights ago.”

 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“I know it comes easy Lotor, but try not to play dumb with me.”

 

Lotor took a step forward. Lance and Haxus tensed.

 

“Quit flexing boy.” Lotor said. “We all know the old man doesn’t have the stomach for a real brawl.”

 

Keith's laugh was as dry as the rustle of dead leaves. “But  _ I’m _ the one at your table, Lotor, and I’m not here to taste. You want a war, and I’ll make sure you eat your fill.”

 

“And what if you’re not around Kogane? Everyone knows you’re the spine of Corans operation—snap it and the Paladins collapse.”

 

Lance snorted. “Stomach, spine. What’s next, spleen?”

 

“Shut it,” Zethrid snarled. Katie mentally face palmed. Lance’s mouth would get him killed before their wedding at this rate. The rules of parley dictate that only the lieutenants could speak once negotiations had begun. Lance mouthed “sorry” and elaborately pantomimed locking his lips shut, throwing the key away.

 

“I’m fairly sure you’re threatening me, Lotor,” Keith said. “But I wasn't to be certain before I decide what to do about it.”

 

“Sure of yourself, aren’t you Kogane?”

 

“Myself and nothing else.”

 

Lotor burst out laughing and elbowed Narti. “Listen to this cocky little piece of crap. Kogane, you don’t own these streets. Kids like you are fleas. A new crop of you turns up every few years to annoy your betters until a big bad dog decides to scratch. And let me tell you, I'm about tired of the itch.” he crossed his arms, pleasure rolling off him in smug waves. “What if I told you there are two guards with city issued rifles pointed at you and your boys now?”

 

Katie’s stomach dropped. Was that what Keith had meant when he said Lotor might have the guards in his pocket? If so, they were defenseless down there,  _ Lance _ was defenseless.

 

Keith glanced up at the roof. “Hiring city guards to do your killing? I’d say that’s an expensive proposition for a gang like the Generals. I’m not sure I believe your coin could support it.

 

Katie climbed onto the railing and launched herself from the safety of the balcony, heading for the roof. If they survived the night, she was going to murder Keith herself.

 

There were always two guards from the Altean Guard posted on the roof of the exchange. A few coins from the Paladins and the Generals had ensured they wouldn’t interfere with the parley, a common enough transaction. But Lotor was implying something very different. Had he really managed to bribe city guards to play sniper for him? If so, the Paladins odds of surviving this night had just dwindled to a knife’s point.

 

Like most of the buildings in New Altea, the Exchange had a sharply gabled roof to keep off heavy rain, so the guards patrolled the rooftop via a narrow walkway that overlooked the courtyard. Katie ignored it. It was easier going but would leave her too exposed. Instead, she scaled halfway up the slick roof tiles and started crawling, her body tilted at a precarious angle, moving like a spider as she kept one eye on the guards’ walkway and one was on the conversation below. Maybe Lotor was bluffing. Or maybe two guards were hunched over the railing right him with Keith or Haxus or, heaven forbid Lance in their sights.

 

“Took some doing,” Lotor admitted. “We’re a small operation right now, and the city guards don’t come cheap. But it’ll be worth it for the prize.”

 

“That being me?”

 

“That being you.”

 

“I’m flattered.”

 

“The Paladins won’t last a week without you.”

 

“I’d give them a month on sheer momentum.”

 

The thought rattled noisily around in the back of Katies head.  _ If Kaz was gone, would Lance and I stay? Or would we take our chances elsewhere?”  _ If she didn’t move faster, she might have to find out.

 

“Smug little scum rat.” Lotor laughed. “I can’t wait to wipe that look off your face.”

 

“So do it,” Keith said. Katie risked a look down. His voice had changed, all humor gone.

 

“Should I tell them to put a bullet through your head, Kogane?”

 

_ Where are the guards?  _ Katie thought, picking up her pace. She raced across the steep pitch of the gable. The Exchange stretched nearly the length of a city block. There was too much territory to cover.

 

“Stop  _ talking _ Lotor. Tell them to shoot.”

 

“Keith—” said Lance nervously. She felt her heart clench, but quickly pushed the feeling down. She had to be Pidge now. Not Katie, friend of Keith and fiance to Lance. She couldn’t afford to be a worried girlfriend.

 

“Go on. Find your balls and give the order.”

 

What game was Keith playing? Had he expected this? Had he just assumed Katie would find a way to the guards in time? Whatever it was, it was stupid.

 

She glanced down again, locking eyes with Lance. The corner of his lips twitched up, and he winked.  _ I love you _ he mouthed, before breaking eye contact, turning his attention back to the parley. Lotor radiated anticipation. He took a deep breath, puffing out his chest. Katie’s steps faltered and she had to fight not to scream.  _ He’s going to do it. I’m going to watch Keith and Lance die. _

 

“Fire!” Lotor shouted.

 

Time slowed down. She heard a gunshot split the air. Heard the impact of bullet and flesh and watched as Haxus let loose a cry and crumpled to the ground.

 

“Quizanck!” shouted Lance, dropping to one knee and pressing his hand to the wound as the taller man moaned. “You worthless shit!” he yelled at Lotor. “You just violated neutral territory!”

 

“Nothing to say you didn’t shoot first,” Lotor replied. “And who’s going to know? None of you are walking out of here.”

 

Lotor's voice sounded too high. He was trying to maintain his composure, but Katie could practically hear the panic pulsing against his words, the startled wing beat of a frightened bird. Why though? Moments ago, he’d been so arrogant.

 

That was when Katie was Keith still hadn’t moved. “You don’t look to well Lotor.”

 

“I’m just fine,” he said. But he wasn’t. He looked pale and shaky. His eyes were darting right and left as if searching the shadowed walkway of the roof.

 

“Are you?” Keith asked conversationally. “Things aren’t going quite as planned are they?”

 

“Keith,” Lance said. “Haxus is bleeding bad—”

 

“Good,” said Keith.

 

“Keith, he needs a medic!”

 

Keith spared the wounded man the barest glance. “What he needs to do is stop bellyaching and be glad I didn’t have Sven take him down with a head shot.”

 

Even from above, Katie saw Lotor flinch.

 

“That’s the guards name isn’t it?” Keith asked. “Sven and Slav—the two city guards on duty tonight. The ones you emptied your vaults to bribe?”

 

Lotor stayed silent.

 

“Sven,” Keith said loudly, his voice floating up to the roof, “likes to gamble almost as much as I do, so your money held a lot of appeal. But Sven has much bigger problems—let’s call them urges. I won’t go into detail. A secret’s not like coin. It doesn’t keep its value in the spending. You’ll just have to trust me when I say this one would turn even your stomach. Isn't that right Sven?

 

The response was another gunshot It struck the cobblestones near Lotor's feet. Lotor released a shocked bleat and sprang back.

 

This time Katie had a better chance to track the origin of the gunfire. The shot had come from somewhere near the west side of the building. If Sven was there, that meant the other guard—Slav—would be on the east side. Had Keith managed to neutralize him too? Or was he counting on her? She sped over the gables.

 

“Just shoot him Sven!” Lotor bellowed, desperation sawing at his voice. “Shoot him in the head!”

 

Keith snorted in disgust. “Do you really think that secret would die with me? Go on Sven,” he called. “Put a bullet through my skull. There will be messengers sprinting to your wife and your watch captains door before I hit the ground.”

 

No shot came.

 

“How?” Lotor said bitterly. “How did you even know who would be on duty tonight? I had to pay through the gills to get that roster. You couldn’t have outbid me.”

 

“Let’s say my currency carries more sway.”

 

“Money is money.”

 

“I trade information Lotor, the things men do when they think no one is looking. Shame holds more value than coin ever can.

 

He was grandstanding, Katie saw that, buying her time as she leapt over the slate shingles.

 

“Are you worrying about the second guard? Good old Slav?” Keith asked. “Maybe he’s up there right now, wondering what he should do. Shoot me? Shook Sven? Or maybe I got to him too, and he’s getting ready to blow a hole in your chest.” He leaned in as is he and Lotor were sharing a great secret. “Why not give Slav the order and find out?”

 

Lotor opened and closed his mouth like a carp, then bellowed, “Slav!”

 

Just as Slav parted his lips to answer, Katie slipped up behind him and placed a blade to his throat. She’d barely had time to pick out his shadow and slide down the roof tiles. Alfor, Keith liked to cut it close.

 

“Shhhhh,” she whispered in Slavs ear. She gave him a tiny jab in the side so that he could feel the point of her second dagger pressed against his kidney.

 

“Please,” he moaned. “I—”

 

“I like it when men beg,” she said. “But I’m already taken.”

 

Below, she could see Lotor's chest rising and falling with panicked breaths. “Slav!” He shouted again. There was rage on his face when he turned back to Keith. “Always one step ahead aren’t you?”

 

“Lotor, when it comes to you, I’d say I have a running start.”

 

But Lotor just smiled—a tiny smile, tight and satisfied.  _ A victor's smile  _ Katie realized with fresh fear.

 

“The race isn’t over yet.” Lotor reached into his jacket and pulled out a heavy black pistol.

“Finally,” Keith said. “The big reveal. Now Lance can stop keening over Haxus like a wet-eyed woman.”

 

Lance stared at the gun with stunned, furious eyes. “Haxus searched him. He… Oh, Hax, you idiot,” he groaned.

 

Katie couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. The guard in her arms released a tiny squeak. In her anger and surprise, she’d accidentally tightened her grip. “Relax,” she said, easing her hold. Alfor, she wanted to put a knife through something. Haxus had been the one to pat down Lotor. There was no way he could have missed the pistol. He’d betrayed them.

 

Was that why Keith had insisted on bringing Haxus here tonight—so he’d have public confirmation that he’d gone over to the Generals? It was certainly why he’d let Sven put a bullet in Haxus’s gut. But now what? Now everyone knew Hax was a traitor. And Keith still had a gun pointed at his chest.

 

Lotor smiled. “Keith Kogane, the great escape artist. How are you going to wriggle your way out of this one?”

 

“Going out the same way I came in.” Keith ignored the pistol, turning his attention to the big man lying on the ground. “Do you know what your problem is Haxus?” He jabbed at the would with the tip of his foot. “That wasn’t a rhetorical question. Do you know what your biggest problem is?”

 

Haxus moaned. “Nooo…”

 

“Give me a guess,” Keith hissed.

 

Hax said nothing, just released another trembling whimper.

 

“All right, I’ll tell you. You’re lazy. I know it. Everyone knows it. So I had to ask myself why my laziest worker was getting up early twice a week to walk two extra miles to Sal’s for breakfast, especially when the eggs are so much better at Hunks. Haxus becomes an early riser, the Generals start throwing their weight around Fifth Harbor  and then intercept our biggest shipment of quintessence. It wasn’t a tough connection to make.” He sighed and turned to Lotor. “This is what happens when stupid people start making big plans, right?”

 

“Doesn’t matter much now, does it?” replied Lotor. “This gets ugly, I'm shooting from close range. Maybe your guards get me or my guys, but there's no way you’re going to dodge this bullet.”

 

Keith stepped into the barrel of the gun so that it was pressed directly against his chest. “No way at all Lotor.”

 

“You think I won’t do it?”

 

“Oh, I think you’d do it gladly, with a song in your black heart. But you won’t. Not tonight at least.”

 

Lotor's finger twitched on the trigger.

 

“Keith,” Lance started. “This whole ‘shoot me’ thing is starting to concern me.”

 

Zethrid didn’t bother to object to Lance mouthing off this time. One man was down. Neutral territory had been violated. The sharp tang of gunpowder hung in the air—and along with is a question, unspoken in the quiet, as if the Reaper himself awaited the answer: How much blood will be shed tonight?

 

In the distance a siren wailed.

 

“Nineteen Arusian road.” Keith said.

 

Lotor had been shifting slightly from foot to foot; now he went very still.

 

That’s your girls address, isn’t it, Lotor?”

 

Lotor swallowed. “Don’t have a girl.”

 

“Oh sure you do. If old Lance here can somehow manage to get one, you must have one too,’ crooned Keith. Lance let out a “hey!” but was silenced with a look. “She’s pretty too. Well, pretty enough for a guy like you. Seems sweet. You love her, don’t you?” Even from the rooftop, Katie could see the sheen of sweat on Lotor's waxen face. “Of course you do. No one that fine should ever have looked twice at Barrel scum like you, but she’s different. She finds you charming. Sure sign of madness if you ask me, but love is strange that way. Does she like to rest her pretty head on your shoulder? Listen to you talk about your day?”

 

Lotor looked at Keith as if he was finally seeing him for the first time. The boy he’d been talking to had been cocky, reckless, easily amused, but not frightening—not really. Not the monster was here, dead-eyed and unafraid. Keith Kogane was gone, replaced by the Red Paladin, someone who was ready to get his hands dirty.

 

“She lives at Nineteen Arusian road,” Keith repeated in his gravelly rasp. “Three floors up, tulips in the window boxes. There are two Paladins waiting outside her door right now, and if I don’t walk out of here whole and feeling righteous, they will set the place alight from floor to rooftop. It will go up in seconds, burning from both ends with poor Trugg trapped in the middle. Her dark hair will catch first. Like the wick of a candle.”

 

“You’re bluffing,” said Lotor, but his pistol hand was trembling.

 

Keith lifted his head and inhaled deeply. “Getting late now. You heard that siren. I smell the harbor on the wind, sea and salt, and maybe—is that smoke I smell too?” There was pleasure in his voice.

 

Katie met Lance’s horrified gaze and knew they were thinking the same thing.  _ Oh Alfor Keith. What have you done now? _

 

Again, Lotor's finger twitched on the trigger, and Katie tensed.

 

“I know Lotor, I know.” Keith said sympathetically. “All that planning and scheming and bribing for nothing. That’s what you’re thinking right now. How bad it will feel to walk home knowing what you’ve lost. How angry your boss is going to be when you show up empty handed and that much poorer for it. We can all go down together. They can take out bodies out to the Reaper’s Barge for burning, like all paupers go. Or, you can take the blow to your pride, go back to Arusian road, lay your head in your girls lap, fall asleep still breathing, and dream of revenge. It’s up to you Lotor. Do we get to go home tonight?”

 

Lotor searched Keith's gaze, and whatever he saw there made his shoulders sag. Katie was surprised to feel a pang of pity for him. He’d walked into this place bouncy with bravado, a survivor, a champion of the Barrel. He’d leave as another victim of Keith Kogane.

 

“You’ll get what’s coming to you someday Kogane.”

 

“I will,” said Keith,”if there’s any justice in the world. And we know how likely that is.”

 

Lotor let his arm drop. The pistol hung uselessly by his side.

 

Keith stepped back, brushing his shirt where the gun had rested. “Go tell your main man to keep the Generals your of Fifth Harbor  and that we expect him to make amends for the shipment of quintessence we lost, plus five percent for drawing steel on neutral ground and five percent more for being such a spectacular bunch of asses.”

 

He crouched down beside Haxus. The tall man whimpered. “Look at me Hax. Assuming you don’t bleed to death tonight, you have until sunset tomorrow to get out of New Altea. I hear you’re anywhere near the city limits, and they’ll find you stuffed in a keg at Sal’s.” Then he looked at Lotor. “You help him, or I find out he’s running with your bunch, don’t think I won’t come after you too.”

 

“Pease Keith.” Haxus moaned.

 

“You had a home, and you put a wrecking ball through the front door Haxus. Don’t look for sympathy from me.” He rose and checked his pocket watch. “I didn’t expect this to go on so long. I’d best be on my way of poor Trugg will be getting a trifle warm.”

 

Lotor shook his head. “There’s something wrong with you Kogane. I don’t know what you are, but you’re not made right.”

 

Keith cocked his head to one side. “You’re from the suburbs, aren’t you Lotor?” Came to the city to try your luck?” He smoothed his lape one hand. “Well, I’m the kind of bastard they only manufacture in the Barrel.”

 

Despite the loaded gun at Lotor's feet, Keith turned his back on them and strode across the cobblestones towards the eastern arch. Lance squatted next to Haxus and gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Idiot,” he said sadly, and followed Keith out of the Exchange.

 

From the roof, Katie continued to watch as Narti picked up and holstered Lotor's gun.

 

“Don’t leave,” Haxus begged. “Don’t leave me.” He tried to cling to the cuff of Lotor's trousers. He shook him off, leaving the traitor curled on his side, leaking blood onto the cobblestones.

 

Katie plucked Slav’s rifle from his hands before she released him. “Go home,” she told the guard.

 

He cast a single terrified glance over his shoulder and sprinted off down the walkway. She slipped into the darkness, meeting the rest of the Paladins outside the eastern arch.

 

She hit Keith. To be fair, it was more a slap then a punch, but it must have hurt  because he turned on her furiously. 

 

“What the hell Katie?” 

 

Lance moved protectively in front of her, blocking her view. “Keith,” his voice held a warning tone. “Careful what you say next.” 

 

Keith took a deep breath and opened his mouth, but Katie cut him off.

 

“You could have gotten yourself killed! You could have gotten  _ Lance  _ killed! What were you thinking springing this plan on us, on  _ me  _ last minute? Do you have any idea what would have happened if I didn’t get to Slav on time? A massacre, Keith, that's what.” 

 

“I know,” he responded, his eyes downcast. “I weighed the risks.”

 

“You  _ knew _ ?” She wondered. Lance put a hand on her shoulder, letting her know he was with her. “You knew and we could have all died, but you chose to go through with it anyways?” 

 

“It was that or risk Lotor and his Generals storm the Lion, murdering us as well as the innocent. And I wasn’t willing to take that chance.” 

 

Katie was stunned. She hadn’t even considered the possibility of Lotor hunting them in their own home. 

 

“Keith I-”

 

“Head back to the Lion and hit the showers. Tonight was a long night, for all of us,” he eyed her, and she nodded, acknowledging his silent apology. “We do what we need to do to survive. I learned this the hard way. That’s what I’m doing, keeping all of us alive, so if anyone objects to my methods, they can feel free to leave.” He turned to go. “Patience.”

 

“Yields focus.” Katie heard herself respond with the others. She knew none of them would be leaving. Keith had offered a home, a family, to them in their times of need. There was no way they were going to turn their backs on him. 

 

As she watched Keith disappear, she felt Lance come up behind her. 

 

“You okay?” He asked, concern creasing his forehead. 

 

“Yeah,” she twisted her body to snuggle into his chest. “I will be.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Comments/suggestions/kudos are always welcomed and appreciated! 
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


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